


Hearts and Thoughts

by Zevgirl



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zevgirl/pseuds/Zevgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Templar and a mage have more in common than they ever thought possible. Milestones in their romance throughout the Inquisition timeline. Mostly head canon with minor spoilers for the events and timing of the Cullen/Trevelyan romance, with some original content not in game. Rated T for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

" _The first time I saw you I noticed your hair, of all things. It was filthy with debris and tousled all about your face, but I could still see that brilliant color under the grime."_

" _And the first time I saw you I thought you were a warmonger and a Templar pig." She smirked when his brows drew together. "Good thing for you my opinion has changed dramatically."_

How soundly they slept when they were together now, peaceful and relaxed, unlike the prior months of battle and upheaval. The past didn't matter anymore though. With an arm draped over her waist, he laughed at that conversation, a lifetime ago, he thought.

The Maker always did have a strange sense of humor, and it was even more apparent when he'd decided to drop a mage at their feet after the Conclave explosion. Cullen had been wary at first; all those years of Templar training hadn't been easy to forget. Though his hesitancy had been tempered by Evelyn Trevelyan's altruistic approach to all things. She'd been so like the many mages he'd known over the years, unaffected and ignorant of the outside world, unknowing of the horrors beyond the circle. She'd also been unlike them, open and honest, wearing her heart on her sleeve, much the way he had always done. No wonder he was drawn to her from the beginning. They were kindred spirits in more ways than one.

To hear her tell it, the Ostwick Circle had been more lenient than most, the Templars more tolerant, but perhaps she just choose to spin it that way to keep a more conciliatory note among the advisors. She had intrigued him though, and he hadn't been sure if it was her bright copper hair or her flippant, yet honest sense of humor, if one could call it a sense of humor. She wasn't particularly funny, but their conversations often left him smiling. Or maybe it had been a simple need to know a mage on a personal level, as a friend and companion, to understand what it was like to be held back, controlled. Collared and leashed. He had his own definition of leashed and suspected hers was similar.

Either way, it had been his job to protect her in the beginning, and it hadn't hurt to study her while he did so considering she had been, for all intents and purposes, a perfect candidate for Inquisitor, though it took him a while to admit that to himself.

Falling in love with her was another thing altogether. Thank the Maker she approached him about their mutual attraction when he was too… cautious to do so those many months ago. The experiences they'd had together, the trauma, the triumph, the joy and heartache had created a closeness he never dreamed possible with a woman. It wasn't an easy road, but it was one he would travel over and over again to keep her at his side.

* * *

**Rescue**

She was dimly aware of the strong arms scooping her out of the biting snow. How long had she been trudging along? Hours? Days? It was all a blur once she left Haven. Faint whispering echoed in her ear, a man's soft voice, full of warmth. Her head flopped on a shoulder, one which bore her weight, and her life force.

Cullen had always smelled of leather and sword metal, clean and masculine. It soothed her, much like a warm cup of tea. The feathers on his pauldrons tickled her cheek, but she was too weak to smile let alone laugh. But the serenity she felt at that moment was well beyond the idea of being saved from an icy death. It was his presence alone that brought her peace then, but she couldn't quite understand why he had that effect on her.

"She's alive!"

"Bring her to the healing tent Dorian and Solas have set up."

"She's colder than ice."

Funny, though she felt cold initially, the extreme warmth that ghosted over her cheek and stung as they passed a fire indicated that the frostbite was rather severe. But she was in camp now.  _Their_  camp. Things could only get better.

He laid her down gently on a bed roll, covering her with thick furs and tucking them under her chin. Cassandra and Leliana recited stories of old, meant to illicit a response and keep her from falling into a deep sleep, but her lips were too frozen to move, her thoughts muddled in the past. Solas forced her to drink an ancient herbal tea meant to dispel the frostbite and warm the innards. Prayers were offered as hands rubbed her legs to restore circulation, but her vision was still clouded, still searching for the one face she needed to find as sleep fought to claim her, memories of a past life creeping to her lips.

"Don't take it," she mumbled. "It's mine, Mama. I can't do any of it without the stick."

"Inquisitor," she heard. "Are you all right? What are you talking about? Something at Haven?"

"Haven. He was there, you know. He told me."

"Told you what?" Cullen asked.

"She's dreaming. Or delusional. Not surprising," someone said.

Yes, part dream, part reality. She had no idea what any of it meant. She spoke words with no meaning, saw visions with no faces.

As the embers slowly died in the fire near to her, a hand covered hers, rough with years of swordplay but warm and soothing, and his rhythmic squeezes kept beat. She squinted, seeing the contours of his face, the gentle eyes, somber and concerned. She squeezed back, hoping he understood what his vigil meant to her. It wasn't herbal tea and fairy tales that healed her. It was his touch, his creased brows and worried expression and nothing else.

Later, after they arrived at Skyhold, she summoned the courage to convey her appreciation, though it was uncomfortable, the air between them charged with the energy of hesitation, and anticipation.

"I want to thank you for saving me, for staying by my side until the worst had passed."

"My efforts were of no consequence really." He smiled slightly, shifting on his feet and shuffling some parchments. "I'm glad you're faring well, especially now that we're here in Skyhold. We need our Inquisitor to be at her peak performance."

"And is that why you stayed with me? To ensure the life of the Inquisition's leader?" she asked, her voice softer than she meant it to be. "Because I was rather hoping it was for more personal reasons, Commander Cullen."

"Oh, I… I did hope you would come through unscathed, and for more reasons than you'd think." He spoke too quickly, too matter-of-factly, not knowing that she'd made the leap, thinking his words meant more than they did.

"What reasons? Why can't you speak plainly, Cullen?"

"I just… I meant that…." He stammered and averted his eyes. "It's hard to see anyone suffer so. We all felt helpless at first, but you recovered quickly given the circumstances."

"Ah, I understand." No matter how peeved she was at his inability of be more forthcoming, she had to leave before something too forward spilled from her lips. And she wouldn't embarrass him either. "I just wanted to thank you… find me if you need me."

Face flushed with heat, she raced out the door shaking her head at her own confusing comments.

 


	2. Games

"I could cheat, you know, beat you horribly."

"Dorian said the same." Cullen let go a low chuckle. "Though I get the feeling you don't really need to cheat to beat me at chess."

"You're right, I don't. Bring on your best moves, Cullen." She winked spontaneously, realizing the double meaning of her comment. But she didn't regret it, not while they were having such a relaxing time together. Sometimes it was better to live on the edge, and pushing Cullen was more than fun. It was invigorating. Entertaining. But more than that, she reveled in his musings, most of them accompanied by the most adorable half-smiles.

During the match, he talked of his family, as did she, both telling tales of childhood and siblings, of dreams and youthful fantasies. He spoke of the pride he and his family felt when he began along the Templar path. He had been committed, truly wanting to do his best, and she couldn't fault his intentions as they were as admirable as his enthusiasm, which seemed to sustain him throughout his training.

Shyly, she mentioned that her family had "issues" with her being a mage, but she wasn't comfortable divulging the entire story just yet, and he, thankfully, didn't ask more of her.

With that, their bond had shifted during the game, a lightheartedness burgeoning, a comfortable and casual rapport that had been elusive before.

Over an hour went by, the game close with every move, though some moves were less than stellar. Stolen glances disrupted their well-planned maneuvers, and Evelyn was too often distracted by his handsome "deep in thought" expression. But when Cullen made an irrevocably bad move, she rushed in and crushed him.

"Well played," he said, his voice even and resigned. He regarded her seriously for a moment, studying her face with narrowed eyes. "You are not the woman I thought you were in Haven. You're… a bit ruthless, I think."

"I'm competitive, yes, but I'm also thoughtful about my conquests." A somewhat forward eyebrow waggle accompanied the comment. She wasn't sure if he approved of her smug grin either, but neither did she care. "Don't tell me you're a sore loser, Cullen."

"Not in the least. But I wonder if there is anything you ever fail at, Inquisitor?"

"Cullen, please call me Evie." Why did she say that? No one had called her Evie since she was a child. The compliment had thrown her, clearly, and she repositioned herself from the lazy, slouching posture she had adopted during the game. "That is if you're comfortable doing so."

They smiled at each other, a reaction that felt completely natural to her, yet she felt exposed at the same time, a tingling warmth spreading through her. The reality of it hit her like a lightning bolt. She was falling for him and falling hard. And fear did not factor into her feelings for once. He was not at all like Jameson, a man who had been controlling and jealous, and sometimes frightening. Perhaps this was the Maker's way of saving her from a marriage to a man who would have kept her like a caged animal. Cullen was the complete opposite, kind and considerate, willing to let others have their opinions without excessive judgment, and it was exhilarating.

"And yes, there are plenty of things I fail at. Like communicating honestly, without feeling nervous that I'll say the wrong thing. But I'm working on it," she said in a moment of brazen self-assurance.

"I understand that, believe me. I can command an army but have a hard time with small talk at a social gathering." An honest response, one that convinced her that there was more to Cullen than she realized.

"Exactly," she said with a happy sigh, mostly because of their shared flaw. "We should practice together then. Let's go to the tavern once a week and talk with the locals, work on our small talk. What do you say?" Her face lit up with anticipation.

"Well, I… Work keeps me quite busy."

Her bright smile morphed into a frown, disappointment stealing her breath away. "Oh, okay. I understand." She stared at the game board, picking at a hangnail. "Too bad." Her eyes rolled up, waiting for a positive sign. She watched as his expression changed, furrowed brows replaced with a breathtaking smile.

"No, you're right," he said, slight crack in his voice. "We should do exactly as you say. A break once a week will hardly get in the way."

"Oh yeah?" Her eyes met his, her shoulders straightening when she saw his soft and thoughtful gaze. "Then meet me there tonight after dark. You know, Bull is really good at this kind of thing. I'll get him to give us some tips," she said excitedly. "He dragged me to talk to some of the soldiers last week and it was so eye-opening. I had no idea what folks around here thought."

"I talk to the men in the barracks often, but I think they are somewhat reluctant to act natural with me."

"Of course they are" she said, as if he were joking. "Maybe I should wander into the barracks some time, see what's what." And she was serious, wanting to somehow make it easier for him to communicate with his men.

"No, no. That is not a good idea, Inquisit- I mean Evie. They're a rough and tumble bunch most days."

"Are you worried for me, Cullen? Because I can handle myself."

"I know you can, it's just… well, you're more cultured than most of them and… Maker's breath, I don't know what I'm saying anymore."

She laughed a little. "Well that makes two of us."

The two of them blushed a rosy red at the same time. Maker, could he be any more like her?

"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, Cullen," she said. "It was not my intention."

"Oh, it's not you. But I have to ask, Evie, what do you… I mean are you…."

"Interested in spending time with you and getting to know you better?" she said. "Yes, and I'm sorry if that's too forward for you, but life is short, Cullen, and I cannot just sit around waiting for someone to sweep me off my feet out of the blue."

"Straight to the point then," he said, low and uncomfortably, until he faced her and stared into her eyes. "All right. So we're in agreement there. I look forward to our practice venture later and I hope-"

"Commander, we have an urgent situation in the barracks," interrupted one of Cullen's men. "One of the new recruits has locked himself in the privy and is threatening set it aflame!"

Evelyn snickered, trying to hide her laughter by covering her mouth with her hands but failing miserably. "Oh Cullen, you have my sympathies."

"Yes, I'm sure you feel quite badly for me," he said with pursed lips.

"I truly do," she said, her voice crackling with giddiness. "But I'll see you later, right? Assuming you will have talked him out of such a heinous act."

"Absolutely." His arm brushed hers as he left, the energy between them almost palpable. "And if I'm late, come find me."

His boldness thrilled her, scared her, emboldened her, and ten minutes later, she was asking Vivienne to help fix her hair and pick her clothes.

Cullen was courting her, in his own way, and she wanted him with a fire that seared her and would not be quenched. But the Inquisitor and the Commander becoming a couple? It seemed a crazy notion, one that would cause such gossip at Skyhold. But she had to relax, let things happen naturally. He was clearly a man who could not be pushed, so she had to rein in her impatience and let things unfold. Another challenge she was more than ready to face.

__


	3. A Woman under the Influence

**A Woman under the Influence**

Evelyn sat at a corner table in the tavern where she could keep an eye on both doors. It was one-half hour past dark and she was still alone. The seemingly endless wait for Cullen had her almost exasperated as dark thoughts filled her head. What if he'd forgotten about their meeting? Or worse, what if he'd changed his mind about… whatever this meeting meant to him. Practicing social graces sounded so boring when she thought about it. The night would, hopefully, hold more excitement than chatting up the locals offered. As far as she was concerned it was a date anyway. To the void with small talk. End of discussion.

Earlier in the evening, Vivienne had helped her get ready, painstakingly combing out Evelyn's unruly hair and sweeping it up into an elegant  _coiffure_ , as she called it, with little tendrils of auburn curls falling about her face. Vivienne had also given her two choices of blouses to borrow. One was royal blue with a plunging neckline, and the other, a silky, conservative hunter green chemise, not quite buttoned to her neck. Evelyn choose the more conventional top, not wanting to appear indecent. Vivienne's response to her choice was a dramatic eye roll. Evelyn even listened to some of Vivienne's suggestions on the "finer manipulations of courtship" but manipulation was not how she wanted to win Cullen's heart.  _That may work for some, but I'm no-_

"A refreshment, my Lady?" the serving girl asked. "While you wait for your companions?"

"I'm not waiting for all my friends tonight, but I'd like some mulled wine, please."  _To loosen my lips a bit._

"Right away, my Lady."

The girl was used to seeing Evelyn with a few friends on rare nights out, though she preferred to curl up with a book or a pile of maps instead of carousing with Bull, Sera, and Dorian. She loved them dearly for trying to break her out of her shell, but she never was fond of getting drunk and talking loudly about crude things. Evelyn figured that after a night or two of her boring company, they'd leave her alone, but they were a determined bunch. She did enjoy watching and listening to them though, noting comments to ponder later, potential worries she could help them with, and even following along with promising romantic ventures. However, if none of them made an appearance while she was with Cullen, she'd be more than happy, not wanting to endure their ribbing.

"Where  _is_  he?" she muttered under her breath as the server put her drink down _. If he's not here by the time I finish my-_

The far door flung open and Cullen stepped in, looking quite handsome in casual trousers and a deep burgundy-colored shirt. He rushed over to the table as Evelyn gave him a little wave, but before she could say hello, he explained his lateness.

"I apologize for my tardiness," he said, breathing a bit hard, as if he ran the entire way. "You wouldn't believe how long it took to convince Rawls to leave the privy and stop making threats. The poor recruit is just beside himself," he rattled on, "missing his family and a woman he left behind in Redcliffe. I actually felt sorry for him, though not enough to override his captain's order to keep him on latrine duty for a month." He laughed along with Evelyn though his gaze kept wandering to take stock of the people in the tavern.

Her foot tapped uncontrollably, waiting for him to look at her closely, to see how she'd changed her hair and clothes, silly as it was."You're a softie at heart, Cullen."

"Ha! Please don't say that in front of my men. I'd never live it down."

_Maker, shut up and sit down already._  "Cullen, why don't you have a seat now?" Her somewhat forceful tone caught his attention.

"Ah, yes, forgive my ramblings." He pulled out a chair with a smile for her, then remained motionless, finally taking in the sight of her. "You look different tonight. More feminine and… fancy."

Her eyes widened. "Different, feminine,  _and_  fancy? I don't think I've been complimented like that before. If it is, in fact, a compliment."

"Oh, it is. Most certainly." He sank into the chair and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not very good at this. My apologies."

"No worries. I can read between the lines." She kicked him under the table, lightly, but his eyes darted to hers nonetheless. "And you're looking quite masculine and not at all commanding in your casual clothes."

"Touché," he said with a smile. Growing more serious, he placed his hand over hers. She felt the slightest of trembling in his fingers as he slid his thumb back and forth with soothing motion. "Evie, you look beautiful tonight. But I could say that every time I see you."

Looking at his hand on hers, her heart raced as a puddle of sweat must have dripped from her palm. She'd also stopped breathing, her lungs burning for air, and she couldn't help staring at his hand, her mouth agape like a dead fish. "That's nice and... what I hoped... ugh... I should... stop now."  _Did I just say that nonsense aloud?_  She raised her gaze to his, her voice soft and sweet. "Thank you."

"Have I rendered you speechless? If only there were witnesses," he joked, a lighthearted half-smile raising his cheek.

The wisecrack flew over her head, her heart bursting with feelings that warmed her down to her toes. "In all honesty, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, Cullen. Truly."

"I would think you'd be used to hearing things like that." The warmth of his hand left when he tried to wave to a serving girl. "The service in here is sorely lacking. It's as if she's looking right through me."

"She's the only one working tonight. Give her a break."

"You're more of a softie than I am, I think."

The shared sentiment melted her further. All the blood in her body rushed to her head then, but she summoned her voice, determined not to make more of a fool of herself. "My father was the last person to say such a thing and that was… many years ago." Now she felt like she was going to faint, but luckily she had a penchant for not visibly exposing her emotions, or so she thought. She smiled back and asked, "Is it hot in here?" He shook his head as she fanned herself with a napkin. "It must be you then."

"Am I making you uncomfortable? I'll stop if-"

"No! It's what you said that has me flustered. Maker, I don't know what I'm saying." She sighed, and not so quietly. Again, he put his hand over hers, easing her discomfort.

"It's not often I make a woman swoon."

"And I am swooning, make no mistake." But her elation was tempered by a distant memory. Leliana or Josephine must have told him about Jameson by now. "Not to ruin the mood, but I'm sure you know I was betrothed before the Conclave, right?"

His brows drew together. "Betrothed? To whom? I've never heard of this."

"You haven't?" Her foot was firmly placed in her mouth now. It was not the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Her insecurities had the better of her, or perhaps the worst, but there was no turning back. "Even though I was at the Circle, an arrangement had been made when I was very young to marry another noble, Jameson Goddard. Being from the Trevelyan family I wasn't quite as bound to the Circle as the other mages. Favors and political machinations and all that. But I didn't want to marry him. He was…." She paused, shuttering at the thought of that man's hands on her. "He was cruel. Mean-spirited. And I hated him. I protested to my parents daily, but they had locked in the marriage many years before."

His hand slipped off hers and balled into a fist. "Did he… hurt you?" he asked, his voice low, the question almost caught in his throat. "Was he improper?"

"That's in the past now." Her eyes dropped to her wine glass. "I know Leliana and Josephine knew of it. I wonder why they didn't they tell you?"

"They were respecting your privacy," he said as every muscle in his shoulders seemed to tense when he sat straight up.

"More likely they were saving  _you_  undue stress with the possibility of violence."

"True, that." A slight smile curved his lips for a moment. "It is unacceptable for a man to… assert his strength with a woman. I abhor brutish men with no respect."

"I guess I shouldn't have told you. I only wanted to make sure there were no secrets between us."

"And that's why you told me now?" he said, his voice oddly distant. "I have to say your timing is a bit strange."

"I've heard that before." He was looking at her as if she'd sprouted horns. Was he jealous? Angry? Concerned? Damn it, she was too open about it, and he was likely put off now. But she was only being honest with him, letting him in on a piece of her past. "I'm a blurter, and I can't stop sometimes, especially when I'm nervous."

"A 'blurter?'"

"I blurt, say things without thinking. It's an awful affliction, I assure you. But I want you to know why I'm sometimes... tongue-tied around you. I want you to understand me. "

His shoulders relaxed from his stiff posture. "I understand far more about you than you think." He took a moment to parse the information, his head tilting curiously. "You don't owe me any explanations, by the way. And I find your inhibition endearing."

"Really? You don't think I'm hopeless?"

"No more hopeless than I am, and that's because I'm certain our pasts have created the social recluses we are now. But that's all right. We're here, together, getting to know one another, and, well… that makes me happy. "

"Me too." Maker, he was perfect. She blew out a long held breath. "Another time I'll tell you more of my past. It's not all that exciting anyway, but I  _am_  very happy to be away from that life." She took a big gulp of her wine and motioned to the server to bring Cullen a drink. The girl served up the drink quickly as they sat in awkward silence until Cullen broke the silence.

"It seems the Herald of Andraste garners everyone's attention far quicker than the Commander of the Inquisition."

"Maybe she doesn't recognize you without the feathers." Another big gulp went down quickly, and she felt the burn as the sweet wine traveled to her stomach. "This is some tasty wine."

"Easy does it," he said. "You don't want me to have to carry you home, do you?"

"Oh Cullen, please don't tempt me," she said, and took another big sip. "Besides, I can handle it just fine. Back at the Circle, we all knew where the secret stash was. Once a week everyone would get drunk when the Templars were busy praying. I didn't drink as much as some though."

"I knew it!" he said, a boyish grin on his lips. "There was this mage in Ferelden, Solona, and she would tease and flirt with me mercilessly on certain nights. I always suspected spirits were involved, of the alcoholic kind, that is."

"And did you flirt back?"

"Of course not," he said shaking his head. "I was on duty."

"Did you like her though?" Clearly the wine was doing its job. She was delving into his private life, but as long as he was willing to answer, she'd keep asking.

"Well, she was a nice girl. A troublemaker at times, but her sweetness did much to negate any anger we Templars felt. She was often sad though. I'd always hoped she would leave the Circle to live a happier life someday."

She ran a finger around the rim of her glass. "Could you have… helped her do so?"

"Not at all. I was not in a position to help anyone while I was stationed at the Circle Tower."

"But you did try. You know, I read the reports, Cullen." His eyes flew to her hers, not with anger or fear, but sadness and regret. "I know what happened there and in Kirkwall, thought the reports were very dry and fact-heavy. We don't have to discuss it either. I just don't want you to think that your efforts meant nothing to the mages under your watch."

"So many ghosts of the past." Faraway eyes kept him quiet for a minute as they sipped their drinks. "But that's a topic for another time."

"Agreed," she said with a nod.

"So, now that we've divulged just enough for curiosity's sake, shall we move on to our real purpose here?" he asked. "Have you targeted any unsuspecting locals worthy of our attempts at idle talk?"

"Well," she said, glancing around the tavern, "there is that gaggle of girls over there who would just  _love_  to pick your brain."

"Maker forbid. Don't you dare put me through that."

"I won't." And she wouldn't, of course.  _Wenches_.

Spotting an older couple, new merchants in from Nevarra, he tipped his head toward them. "How about those two? They seemed quite kind when I welcomed them here a few weeks ago."

"The Bilargos?" she said, appalled at his suggestion. "They're the biggest gossips in Skyhold! No, I don't want them to have any more fodder than they'll have just seeing us together tonight. Tongues will be wagging tomorrow as it is."

"And that bothers you." It was a statement, an opinion he thought she held about his worthiness to court her. She had to dispel it immediately.

"Not because I'm embarrassed to be with you," she said. "It's more that I don't like being the center of attention."

"Pardon my saying so, but you are the Inquisitor, Evie. You have no choice in that regard."

She sighed. "Don't I know it."

"You're doing a fine job. No one in all of Skyhold has had anything bad to say about you."

"Give them some time and that will change."

"No it won't," he asserted. "You're fair, honest, and a pillar of strength in their eyes. And mine."

"That's kind of you to say." He was so open and warmhearted, it was a joy and comfort unlike anything she'd felt before. "Keep that up and my ego will get as big as Dorian's."

"To be honest, I thought Dorian might have been more your type."

"I adore him, but Dorian is interested in men, not women. Didn't you know that?"

"No, I didn't." Cullen was nodding, the information slowly dawning on him. "Well, now I understand some of his comments. He seems to favor Bull then?"

"Oh yeah, they've really hit off lately. I'm happy for them. It's wonderful to see their relationship growing as it has."

"All of us deserve some happiness." Cullen exhaled, a wistful ghost of a smile on his lips. "It seems almost impossible to find someone you can be yourself with, someone to commiserate with  _and_  celebrate with."

Carefully, because she had no idea how he would react, she reached out and touched his face, tracing the line of the scar that curved on his upper lip. "I can be that person for you, if you want me to be."

"I'd like that." His hand reached up to clutch her fingers, holding them in a grip that was firm but by no means rough. Soft lips kissed the fingers that had just explored his scar. "Especially if you allow me to reciprocate."

"Absolutely."

And there it was, admissions neither could take back. They relaxed into a sort of rhythm then, one thread of conversation leading to another and another. They laughed and companionably argued over politics, choices for the new Divine, and the best seeds to plant in the garden.

By third glass of wine, they were no closer to speaking to anyone in the tavern, as each had a reason, or excuse, not to. But a silent accord indicated they didn't need to. They were making great strides on their own, speaking openly about all sorts topic.

By the fourth glass, Evelyn was feeling tired and bit too reckless. She couldn't stop the next words from leaving her mouth. "So tell me, Cullen, did you take a vow of celibacy when you were a Templar? Or is that just some bullshit I've heard over the years?"

"I, uh, well, no, I took no such vow." He rolled up his sleeves, then ran his fingers through his hair. "Some Templars chose to take vows, but some married as well."

"Well, that's good to hear!" she said, toasting him with an empty glass. "Then tell me of your conquests. How many hearts have you broken over the years?"

"Hopefully none." He shifted in his seat, cracking his neck with a couple tilts of his head. "Perhaps we should call it a night."

"Come on, a handsome man like you? I wager a dozen women have cried into their hankies when you snubbed them." His face turned several shades of crimson. "Evie, I think I should escort you back now. It's quite late and you seem tired."

Oh, this was too fun, but on the other hand, he was clearly struggling with the topic. Best to move on. "Are you suggesting that I'm drunk? Because I'm not. Just a bit tipsy."

"Even so, you're heading to the Hinterlands tomorrow. You'll need to be on your toes."

"Aww, you're concerned for me!" She was giggling now, unable to control her happiness. He was charming without even trying to be.

"Of course I'm concerned for you. Someone has to be the voice of reason here."

"Fine, be that way. Take me home then." She looked away, feigning hurt.

"Now don't get all offended," he said as he took her arm in his.

"I'm not offended in the least, Commander Cullen."

She swayed as he guided her out the door toward the stairs. "You're quite graceful tonight, Inquisitor."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "You better quit poking fun at me or I'll sit on my throne and pass judgment on you. To the dungeon!" Such ludicrous behavior on her part, a once in a lifetime event, and she would cherish the memory forever.

At the late hour, Skyhold was quiet with only the guards on watch and a few folks taking in the night air. By the time they reached the door to her chambers, she was enjoying an occasional view of two Cullens instead of one.

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Sleep well, Evie. And please be careful while you're gone."

"Why don't you come up and you can look at my maps, give me some tips on getting around the area?" She pulled him toward the door.

"I don't think that would be prudent tonight," he said, firmly staying in place.

"Cullen." She breathed his name on a sigh, moving to hold his face in her hands. "I want you to kiss me."

"Evie, you're asking for something I… Let's continue this when you return, when we're both more of a mind to make that decision. You'll thank me tomorrow."

"Such a wet blanket," she said with a wink and pushed his shoulder. "Tonight was perfect, you know."

"It  _was_  a lovely evening. Your company is a breath of fresh air." He gave her a sweet kiss on the forehead and another on the cheek. "I'll hear the moment your boots are near the gates when you return. Find me as soon as you 're able or I'll hunt you down."

"When I get back, I'm going to sneak into your office and tackle you to the floor, Cullen. I promise."

He laughed, wholly amused by her bold talk. "Give it your best shot. In fact, I challenge you to try to do exactly that."

"Throwing the gauntlet down, are you? Poor thing, you know so little about my competitive side."

"I love a challenge." He stared at her, and she couldn't stop from throwing her arms around him and hugging him fiercely. "I had a wonderful time tonight, even if all the small talk was kept to ourselves."

She backed away slowly, watching him, memorizing the face of the man she was falling in love with.

"Good night, Evie."

"Good night."

After the door closed in front of her, she climbed the stairs, feeling exhilarated, not to mention more than a bit turned on.

When she reached her room, the frantic search began.

_Which drawer did I throw **Hard in Hightown**  into last night?_

* * *

Cullen found her note when he went to his office early the next morning. Her scent lingered on the parchment, lavender and vanilla bean, he thought. Then he felt a strange flutter in his chest. He missed her already. Such a strange thought, and feeling, but one he wasn't afraid of, not anymore.

_Dear Cullen,_

_I apologize for my silly behavior last night. Obviously, the wine got the best of me. But I don't regret my words and actions toward you. Even upon waking, the thought of you made me smile. I'll have a surprise for you when I get back too._

_You will be in my thoughts every day that I'm away from Skyhold._ _S_ _ee you soon._

_Yours,_

_Evie_

"Mine." Could it be true? He wanted it to be so, but it was so quick, so soon, and they hadn't even kissed. Then again, why bother with worry? He hadn't felt as contented and relaxed in years. She was changing him, altering the course of his life, and for the better.

When she returned, they'd certainly talk more, and as he thought about what he might say about his feelings for her, he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to press his lips to hers, to hold her for more than a few seconds, to commit himself to a future with her in it. When he closed his eyes, a vision of loveliness stole his breath away.

"As beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside. I must remember to tell her that every day." He sat down and began sifting through the days' work, but he was unable to see anything but her face. "Maker help me."

**Author's Note:**

> So many blanks to fill in. The Cullen romance really melted me and I had to get some thoughts down. This will likely be just snippets as the romance progresses.


End file.
